


Someone else

by old fics (Lothiriel84)



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/old%20fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisbon did a double take at this. Was he finally in love with a living woman? Well, that sounded unexpectedly good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lisbon shot a quick glance at her wristwatch. Half past midnight. Time to go home.

She collected her things, shut the door of her office and headed towards the elevator.

An all too familiar voice coming from the brown leather couch suddenly made her jump. "Goodnight, Lisbon".

It took her a moment to recover from the shock. "Jane! What are you doing here? You were supposed to have a date tonight, weren't you?"

In spite of the gloom, she could see him shrug. "I made my excuses and left".

Lisbon bit her lip, feeling strangely disappointed. She had noticed the connection between Jane and that Leslie woman right from the beginning of their last case. She had really hoped this connection could develop into more… romantic feelings. Mainly for Jane's sake.

After all, several months had passed since Red John's death. She had expected him to move on sooner than that.

Sitting on the edge of his couch, she stroked his hair soothingly. "Why did you leave?"

Jane sighed – almost inaudibly. "She wanted something I couldn't give her".

"What?"

"Come on … that's kind of obvious, isn't it?"

She sighed in turn. "Then… why couldn't you give her this _something_?"

"Because I'm in love with someone else".

There was an awkward silence.

"Jane?"

"Mm?"

"I understand that your wife was a wonderful woman, but…"

He shifted his gaze. "I didn't mean Angela".

Lisbon did a double take at this. Was he finally in love with a _living_ woman? Well, that sounded unexpectedly good.

"Oh", was all she was able to say.

Jane smirked. "Yeah".

She pinched his arm. "Why didn't you tell me before? I thought we were friends".

"Sorry. It's just a bit… complicated, you know".

There was a tiny note of sadness in his tone that didn't escape her.

"I hope you haven't fallen for a married woman", she said half-jokingly.

"Well, not exactly".

She wondered what his answer could mean. Maybe this mysterious woman was in love with someone else?

"Have you ever told her about your feelings, Jane?"

"I'm not sure that I can".

"Why not?"

He ran a reassuring finger along her elbow. "I really appreciate your concern for me, Lisbon. I'll be fine, I promise. You don't have to worry".

"All right. We can talk about this some other day. Try to get some sleep, if you can".

"Okay. Sweet dreams, Teresa".

"Night, Jane".


	2. Chapter 2

Jane was lying on his makeshift bed in the attic, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Sorting out his feelings wasn't exactly an easy task.

His mind went back to the somewhat awkward date he had had with Kristina Frye – so long ago. He'd been intrigued by the woman, he had to admit. She used to have a strange, beguiling way to deal with reality. Completely different from his own. That was exactly what had attracted him, though he was still reluctant to acknowledge it.

Things wouldn't have gone any further, however – even if she hadn't been so damn foolish as to draw Red John's attention to her. He had cared for her after his own fashion, but that was all.

He didn't want to brood on that subject anymore. For better or worse, Kristina was gone. Red John had left just an empty shell, the ghost of her previous self. Kind of ironic, for a woman who had always claimed she could get in touch with dead people…

Then there had been Erica Flynn. A dangerous, unscrupulous woman. It had kind of reminded him of his own past as a conman. The chemistry he had felt was mostly due to the challenge she had represented. They had both tried to use each other, and she had succeeded in winning the first round. His wounded pride still hadn't healed completely, even if he had managed to catch her in the end.

She had tried to seduce him from the first time they had met – shortly after she had murdered her own husband. Kissing her had been a deliberate act, in order to show her she was wrong.

Part of him was still ashamed that he'd been affected by that kiss much more than he had expected.

He suspected his almost decade-long celibacy had something to do with this. Not to mention the unhealthy allure of danger itself – the same feeling that leads some people to keep poisonous snakes as pets.

Now Erica was finally back to where she belonged. Namely in jail. End of story.

He wasn't sure how he'd gotten entangled with Leslie Clarke. Maybe he was just tired of being alone. Especially after Lisbon had shot that bullet into Red John's head.

That was kind of ironic too, since she'd always been the one who had tried to prevent him from shooting the serial killer. Not that she had had much choice, anyway. It had been a touch-and-go thing. He was more than glad that she got out of it alive.

Well, perhaps he had unconsciously regarded Leslie as a sort of kindred spirit. She felt guilty about her husband taking his own life – and he knew exactly that kind of feeling.

Moreover, her kids were absolutely adorable. Somehow, they had made him want to be a father again.

However, he had quickly understood he couldn't date their mother just in order to become the kids' stepfather. It surely wasn't fair to anyone.

He had told her that, as they were sitting at a table of the most expensive restaurant in south Sacramento. Leslie had regretfully agreed and wished him good luck.

What he hadn't told her was that he had discovered a most unexpected thing that evening.

He _was_ actually in love. For the first time since his wife. And he probably had been for quite a long time.

For a moment he had wished that _that_ woman was sitting in front of him right then, instead of the gorgeous blonde widow.

The only problem was that he cared too much for the woman in question. Her well-being mattered to him far more than his own.

Maybe he'd better bury those feelings deep down inside himself. After all, he'd been alone for the best part of the last ten years. He could spend the rest of his life likewise.

Anything would be better than hurting the most precious thing he still had in this world.


	3. Chapter 3

"So… what does she look like?"

"I beg your pardon…?"

"Come on, Jane. You know _whom_ I'm talking about".

He shifted on her couch and sighed internally. Of course she was going to ask that. She was a cop, after all.

"Well… I don't think any description would do justice to her".

Lisbon smiled affectionately. Jane's sweetheart had to be a most extraordinary woman.

"Why don't you try?", she said encouragingly.

There was an odd look in his eyes as he turned towards her.

"As you wish. She's… beautiful. Strong. Loyal. Brave. Selfless. Is that enough for you?"

"This isn't a description. It's a list of adjectives".

Jane shrugged. Clearly he had no intention of providing further information.

"You care for her, don't you?"

His answer came in a whisper. "Yeah".

"Jane. Look at me".

Obediently, he complied.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

He paused a second before replying. "Of course we are".

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I do". _How could it be otherwise?_

"Would you do something for me?"

"I can't promise you anything".

"Jane".

They stared at each other for a moment.

"All right. Fire away".

"Take your cellphone and call her. Now. Invite her for a dinner, a movie, or whatever you like. Even sharing an ice cream would be fine. Please, do it".

Damn. How was he supposed to resist to that honest, caring eyes of hers?

Slowly, he fished in his vest pocket for his cellphone. Pressing the speed dial, he brought it to his ear.

Lisbon was looking at him expectantly, and rolled her eyes when she heard her own cellphone ringing. Why had someone to call her right now?

Abruptly, Jane clicked his phone shut. "She's not going to answer".

He slipped out of her office before Lisbon could grab her cellphone. Didn't want to be there when she checked the caller ID.


	4. Chapter 4

Lisbon simply couldn't sleep that night. She lay awake in her bed, her mind swirling with thoughts.

Why on Earth had Jane called her? Was he just trying to distract her attention from the unnamed woman he was in love with? Or else…?

She couldn't bring herself to accept the other possibility. Jane _wasn't_ in love with her. She knew this for sure.

_Did she?_

When he had mentioned the fact of being in love again, she had pictured the woman as a slender, golden-haired siren: sophisticated, witty and – above all – ravishingly beautiful.

Everything that she wasn't, in fact.

Now she wasn't so sure about this. Her mind was confused, and she just couldn't think straight.

Admittedly, _maybe_ Jane was in love with her. Or, more probably, he was merely deluded about the whole business.

Anyway, _she_ wasn't in love with him. He was a friend, that was all.

She cared for him as she cared for the rest of her team. Well, maybe a little more.

After all, she had always considered Jane as a sort of naughty younger brother, who constantly needed someone to take care of him. So she did.

Half the time he nearly drove her crazy. The other half… well, she kind of enjoyed his company. Bantering. Laughing at his jokes. Teasing him.

She had gotten used to all this.

That didn't mean she had fallen in love with him. _Falling in love_ was such a terrible cliché, anyway.

The only time she had really felt something of the kind was about Sam Bosco. He had been her mentor, and she had admired him immensely. A pity he was a married man. Nothing much to do about that, anyway.

Then many things had happened, and… well, she'd rather avoid thinking about it. Sam was dead now. Bringing up the past was of no use.

The other brief affairs she'd had in her life had meant nothing to her. Not even her fling with Walter Mashburn. She'd been flattered that he had found her attractive – especially after a supermodel. They had had a good time, and that was that.

She suspected that Jane took love much more seriously than she did. He'd been faithful to his dead wife for almost a decade, after all. Of course that had something to do with him feeling guilty about her death, but… it was _different_.

 _Jane_ was different from other men.

He could be such a child sometimes. However, she knew there was much more than this behind his cheerful façade. His feelings ran deeper and stronger than anyone else's.

It would be a wonderful thing being loved just as he had loved his wife.

Dammit, she _craved_ for this. Very, very badly.

Her thoughts lingered idly on certain fantasies. His lips brushing against hers. The touch of his fingers on her skin.

She had to stop this. Really. It was just… she didn't want to.

Suddenly she got up, put on her clothes, grabbed her car keys and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane was roaming around his memory palace that night. Focusing his mind on things he couldn't care less about just seemed a good trick to avoid thinking of _her_.

He still hadn't ascertained whether what he had done earlier that day had been wise or merely foolish. He had thought it'd be fair to drop her a hint about his true feelings, and the way he had managed things had given her the luxury of deniability.

She might come in the next morning and just pretend that it had never happened. That would be for sure the best thing he could expect.

They'd continue their friendship as if he had never told her anything.

He didn't _tell_ her anything, as a matter of fact. A missed call on her cellphone wasn't much evidence, after all. Not even for a cop.

Maybe he should have known better than that. Upsetting Lisbon was the last thing he was looking for right now. Maybe…

What the heck. He was falling for it again. He didn't want to think about her, and yet… here he was.

A sigh escaped from his lips as he glanced at his pocket watch. A quarter to three. The morning was still so far away – and he surely didn't relish the prospect of tossing and turning on his makeshift bed for at least another three hours.

The unexpected sound of the door sliding open startled him. Who could it be at such an unearthly hour of the night? Of course there was the night watchman wandering around the building, but as a rule he never went upstairs to the attic.

He stood absolutely still, waiting for the intruder to make the first move.

The familiar clicking of her boots on the floor had him immediately figure out the identity of his nocturnal visitor.

Crap. If Lisbon was there at three in the morning – well, that was not a good sign at all.

He had actually hoped that she wasn't going to be angry at him. That she could handle it without talking to him.

Now she was just beside his bed – he could tell this even with his eyes closed. However, he refused to move. Maybe she'd believe he was asleep, and decide to leave.

"Jane. I know you're awake".

Reluctantly he opened his eyelids. "I had no idea that you suffered from insomnia too".

She bit her lip. "Usually I don't. Just tonight".

"I'm sorry. I hope it's not my fault".

"Well, maybe".

The prolonged silence that followed only made him feel worse.

"All right, Lisbon. Just say it".

"Say what?", she double-checked warily.

"That you hate me for what I did this afternoon".

In the dim light he could see her frowning. "Is that what you think?"

Jane simply shrugged. "Otherwise, why would you be here in the middle of the night?"

It was the uncertainty in his voice – the faint note of fear behind his usual light tone – that had Lisbon finally understand her own feelings.

She sat down next to him and gently caressed his cheek. Her heart picked up speed when she felt him leaning into her touch.

"Is it really me?", he heard her ask in a whisper.

Hope suddenly sprang into his chest. He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Yeah", he admitted softly, placing featherlike kisses on her fingertips.

That caused her to moan under her breath. "Jane…"

"Yes?", he asked before directing his attention to her palm.

She didn't answer, lost in a feeling she had never experienced before. How could it be that this man was able to convey so much love and affection through a simple thing like that?

When she felt his lips caressing her wrist, she decided it was high time to stop him. So she drew back her hand and joined his mouth with hers.

Neither of them said anything for a remarkably long time. At last he pulled back and searched her eyes. What he found there seemed to please him, and he smiled.

"I have to warn you, Lisbon. My wardrobe isn't the only old-fashioned thing about me. I want to follow the traditional route".

She chuckled. "Namely an engagement ring, marriage and a number of children following us at the park every Sunday?"

Jane's eyes sparkled merrily. "Well, maybe one or two kids would be enough".

"Great. Then we have a deal".

"Woman, it's about half past three in the morning, I have just declared my intention of marrying you… and all you have to say is _this_?"

She kissed him lightly. "Well, what would you expect? After all, it _is_ half past three in the morning. We should try and get some sleep before dawn".

"Maybe you're right. You can sleep here if you want".

"Jane", she warned him.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you, I promise. Scout's honor".

"All right", she said as she curled up against him and finally drifted towards sleep.


End file.
